So my rent check bounced. I’m not saying I’m the best with money, but I do not, as a rule, bounce my rent checks. I sort of enjoy the little luxuries that come with having a place to live. Clearly, something had gone terribly wrong.

In the words of The World’s Greatest Landlord (i.e., mine), “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

I go back through my bank statement. $8 to FedEx a mother’s day present. $15 for gas. $9 at Starbucks (what the hell did I buy for $9 at Starbucks?). Cable bill, electric bill, okay, so far so good. $50 at iTunes? Quoi?

Someone, somewhere, had purchased 3 $50 iTunes gift certificates. That somewhere was not Savannah, GA. That someone was not me. That sometime, however, was last Saturday at 10am, when I was at work. So, okay, at least I have an alibi.

A call to the bank sends me to iTunes, who send me back to the bank. This is where I encounter Sandy, the fraud specialist. All customer service reps at the bank have names like this. Sandy. Ron. Nick. Kate. The last names all sounds Polish or Irish, and are unimportant. Their voices are light, and empathize with you in a way where you know they are still smiling. They ask how you are, what they can help you with. Their attitude is not one of, “we are going to get through this together.” It is more of, “I am here to solve this problem for you.” Sandy could have talked me down from the window ledge. She could have negotiated for the release of every single hostage, and would have taken my gun and hugged me as she walked me out of the treasury. Sandy was going to make this all go away, and all she needed was my account number and my mailing address. Sandy is very good at her job.

Sandy turned my invasion of privacy, security, and all out rage, into a nice neat package called My Report. My Report would be filed immediately, she would discuss My Report with the iTunes reps. I would be receiving the affidavit of My Report in the mail within three business days. She was going to see to it that My Report was dealt with as soon as possible. She thanked me four times for being such a valuable member of the bank. Not a customer, not a client, a member. I swear, if the next words out of her mouth had been, “I enjoy Italian food and late Neoclassic art,” I could have married her.

Of course I am still angry. I just had to change every password to everything I have. I canceled my iTunes account, and deactivated my debit card. I have to call and tell my mother (hi mom!), who is the CFO of a credit union and who will give me a lecture about identity theft and how this problem would be solved so much faster at the member owned NCUA institution. I have to pay my rent.

Tags: banks, credit card fraud, lying stealing little bitches
Posted in Life | 1 Comment »

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